Fifty Shades Life
by Another Writer Chick
Summary: Ana and Christian are settled into their new house, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Pheobe Grey. The couple couldn't be happier- the house is great, business is booming, and Teddy is thriving. But some demons from the past will make some appearences, and soon, nothing will be as it seems. Danger is inevitable. What does this mean for our favorite couple? Read to find out ;)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey readers! So, first ever fan fiction. Oh wow, I'm nervous. I really do want this to be a continuation, so bear with me- there will be a lot of my own ideas! All characters and ideas are not mine, but my plot is :) Read and review- comments, questions, suggestions. Love to hear from you!**

**3, AWC**

Sunlight pours into my bedroom as I slowly open my eyes. I'm warm, and more comfortable than I've been in months. I pat my belly wryly. Pheobe Grey seems to run in a more...European time zone on most days. Whenever I'm awake, or Christian wants to feel her move, she is nice, still, and probably sound asleep. But just when I'm finally winding down, she is up and ready to dive and do what feels like enthusiastic cartwheels.

I sit up slowly, propping myself up on my elbows as I do. Black spots swim in front of my eyes-head rush! I breathe deeply, willing myself not to get sick. Thankfully, the nausea only lasts a minute. As my sister in law and best friend Kate put it, "You look like you're about to pop, Ana!" As silly as it sounds, I feel like I'm about to pop, too. Pheobe's birthday should be soon, and I can't wait to meet her.

After a quick shower and a sun dress that is shapeless, but feels blissfully cool in the late summer weather, I pad out into the kitchen. I'm hungry- yes, for food, but for Christian, too. A crisis at work has needed his attention- he hasn't filled me in on the details, but his little time spent at home is spent eating or sleeping. I feel asleep really early last night, so I didn't hear him come home. My little man, Teddy, is at his Grandpa Ray's house for the weekend. Gail has been keeping me sane and helping me with him, but I can't rough house and entertain him like I need to. I simply an too tired and there's too...much of me. It breaks my heart to see him so restless, so Dad assured me he'd send him home tired out. Gail is absent from the kitchen, so luckily, I can make my own breakfast. I have really loved cooking lately, but of course, Christian has me waited on. Enjoying my moment of freedom, I turn on a bouncy pop song and scrounge. Eggs, I think. Yes, eggs with cheese and toast. And bacon.

As I gather my ingredients, I consider all this food. If there's one thing my Fifty loves about me being pregnant, it's that I eat. Really eat. All the time. Yes, I work hard, but I'm so not used to the gnawing, empty feeling that I gorge myself more often than not. And I haven't been gaining any more weight than as normal. So where does it all go?

A reflection of my chest from the frying pan gives me an idea, actually. I crack first one egg, and then another, into a white porcelain bowl. After adding a splash of milk, and a dash of salt and pepper, I grab a whisk and beat them, hard, so they'll be fluffy like Gail's. The eggs froth nicely, and I pour them into the pan I set on the stove. I then grate an obscene amount of cheese onto my creation. After carefully adding three slices of bacon to the pan once the eggs have settled, a satisfying hiss and the smell of cheesy scrambled eggs wafts about the kitchen. My mouth waters expectantly.

"Barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen. I like this, baby." I gasp, startled. And there he is, my beautiful husband. He is looking hot as usual, in a pair of dark wash jeans that sit low on his hips, paired with a white button down shirt. I realize I'm ogling him again, and try to wipe the goofy smile off my face. I wish I had chosen something a little more flattering to wear!

"Morning," I manage, still smiling uncontrollably. He returns my huge grin with a shy smile, before observing my cooking. I take advantage of his scrutiny, and pop a piece of toast into the toaster, which unfortunately, doesn't go unnoticed.

"Hungry, Mrs. Grey?" he smirks knowingly.

I rub my belly enthusiastically, exclaiming, "Hush, or I'll eat you too!"

I'm rewarded with a loud laugh before Christian sweeps me into his arms for a kiss. He brushes his lips over mine before moving to kiss me in earnest. I wind my fingers in his hair, sighing as I lose myself in his lips, his tongue...

"My eggs!" I cry, dropping hastily out of my husband's embrace to scoop the food onto a plate. Christian laughs again loudly, obviously in high spirits. About time!

"Sorry I've been absent this past week, baby. But I got the stocks ironed out this morning, finally." I listen, as I gobble down my steaming, delicious breakfast. Christian talks about his work as I eat, mainly on how they're trying to get the completely solar powered cell phone to go into testing. After a moment, I notice the silence on the room. I look up to see him smiling at my in that quiet, happy way he has.

"I love seeing you eat, Mrs. Grey. Truly eat. It's adorable."

I smile, tossing my hair over my shoulder. "We aim to please, Mr. Grey!"

**A/N: A little tame couple happiness for our first go round :) don't worry, there will be plenty of drama and suspense and all that good stuff- by I love shy Christian. What do you think? Want more? Review!**

**Love, AWC**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, so much feedback in one day! All of you are amazing. Seriously. I felt that my story would sit, growing dusty, in my little corner of for quite a while. So all of your reviews and follows and favorites make me happy! Keep those reviews comin'! Shout out to Footychick, my first ever...like EVER...reviewer. You're awesome and made me really excited :D So please ignore my rambling, folks. Without further ado, here is Chapter Two! Love, AWC**

"Sorry I have to work today, baby." Christian looks miserable as he shrugs into his jacket, and adjusts his tie. He really hates working at the office when I am so close to my due date.

"It's fine. I can handle myself, you know!" Christian chuckles at my surly tone. He kisses me swiftly, before bending to peck a kiss on my swollen belly.

Ignoring me, lips pressing against my skin, he whispers, "Keep mommy in line, baby." He straightens, smoothing his jacket over his chest, and fastens the button. He winks at me before turning on his heel, calling "Laters, baby." I roll my eyes and stretch, before heading upstairs. I really do have a manuscript I need to finish. The author is young and obviously talented, but her age has my people doubting me.

I finish the manuscript in an hour and a half, before settling down for a rest. I simply don't know how reading could make me so tired. By the time I wake up, it's nearly four o'clock. Not knowing when my husband will return, I decide to get properly dressed.

Christian, much to my chagrin and ok, delight, bought me a maternity wardrobe. I love my maternity clothes. They have extra room in all the right places, but still look like...well, clothing, and not a tent. I dress in dark skinny jeans-well, as skinny as it gets when you're nine months pregnant- and a white with navy stripes blouse. The sleeves go down to my elbows, making me feel dressier than if I had just put on a t-shirt. I run my fingers through my now dry hair, and brush on some mascara and lip gloss. And what the hell- a little red lipstick. Slipping some pearls around my neck, I feel so much more put together. Being so...round, for lack of a better term, does a number on my self esteem. Thinking maybe since Dad is watching Teddy a date night is in order, I pick up my cell phone.

The door bell rings before I have a chance to open my email. Startled, I drop the phone on the duvet, and waddle down the staircase.

A beautiful woman is waiting for me on my porch. Her hair is a shiny ice blonde, and its pulled back into a sleek, round, soft bun that looks like it took a lot of hairspray. She's wearing a short black dress, which is disturbingly sheer and low cut. I have to stop my eyebrows from raising into my hairline when I see the red lipstick, glowing smile, eyeliner, baby blue eyes, and sky high red stilettoes. She oozes confidence and sex appeal, and quite frankly, I'm intimidated. But perhaps the feeling of intimidation is mutual, because she takes a step back, and those pouty red lips go slack.

"Mrs. Grey." Despite the surprise coloring her voice, I catch her statement for what it is, or rather, what it isn't- not a greeting or question.

"Yes. Can I help you?" I try to keep my voice and body language polite, but irritation is quickly seeping in.

Was she here to see Christian? Looking for all the world like a man's fantasy dreamed her up? _Obviously!_ My subconscious sneers. _She isn't exactly jumping for joy to see you_. Confirming my thoughts as if on cue, the woman's eyes slide out of focus, searching over my shoulder, as she asks, "Is Mr. Grey available?" Her voice sounds so familiar. I don't think I know her, though.

"Um, he's working. Very busy." She seems uncomfortable, and I realize we've been having this conversation on opposite sides of the threshold. "Would you like to come in, Miss..." I let my sentence hang in the air gently. The woman regards me incredulously, before accepting my invitation and stepping past me, into my home.

"You don't recognize me." Her voice sounds...weary. I begin to ask again, but she holds up a pale, perfectly manicured hand, stopping me. She takes her hands, and frames her face, blocking out the platinum blonde hairline. Minus the elaborate makeup, and the blue eyes, she's the spitting image of...

"Leila Williams!"

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the cliff hanger XD Some of you are probably ready to kill me about now. But on the upside, I still am in a writing mood, so I'll probably update once more before I turn in :) I also plan to update at least once a day, I promise!**

**Think Christian is gonna freaking flip? Wish Ana luck, reader!**

**Love, AWC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Done! I know I hate cliff hangers. You're welcome ;) Now let's drop in on this...uh, awkward, to say the least...conversation.**

**Let me know how I did!**

**Love, ASC**

My mouth dries and I feel the blood drain from my face. I know she apologized to me...but the Jack Hyde incident left scars. Those of which are invisible that cause me the most symptoms. And even after that fear... She has no business being here. I thought this was over. And what the fuck is with the hair and eyes? Bleach and contacts, I'm guessing. But why? An ex submissive has no business getting a make over, dressing in her most provocitive clothing, and then coming to request an audience with my husband. Hell, no woman has any business doing that to any woman's man. Let alone a woman who held a gun to my head and had a kinky, intimate past with my Fifty.

I realize with a sinking feeling that my cell phone is on my bed. And my bed is some where over my head, up that grand stair case.

Crap. Get it together, Grey.

"I know it's ridiculous for me to be here. But ridiculous requests require ridiculous measures." She gives me a quirky half smile, and I think she just tried to crack a joke. I manage a weak grin. She notices. "I really am better, Mrs. Grey. I have medicine and a great therapist. All better." She taps her temple, and I nervously attempt to change the subject.

"What request? And why did you change your appearance like this?" She shrugs sheepishly, and seems to be bracing herself.

"I want a job as an assistant or receptionist to Mr. Grey." Her words tumble out in a rush, and before I can say she didn't answer my second question, I realize she sure did. How did she know? Christian's female employee base mainly consists of blonde bombshells. Which she now is the epitome of.

"What happened to art school?" I sound incredulous, and irate, even to my own ears.

"Not my calling. And by calling, I mean it doesn't pay the bills." She smirks again, and I feel slightly guilty. I will never have to worry about paying bills again. When I first heard of her, Christian cryptically said that she wanted 'more'. As in, a real relationship with him...and the feeling was not mutual. This could have easily been her, here, in my place. With a baby on the way, loved and cared for twenty four seven, the best housing, clothing, and food available. _And the sex isn't half bad, either_, my inner goddess retorts with a sly grin. "I'll work very hard. I have a good resume." She seems desperate, suddenly.

"Christian will be home soon. Would you like to stay till then? I'm afraid I can't promise anything before taking with him." I finally reach my goal; my voice sounds cool, calm, and professional.

It slips, just for a minute. I see the empty, cold, detached girl I first met in my apartment, where she greeted me with a barrel of a gun. Her eyes cloud, her lips pull into a taunt line, and her breathing speeds. Her shoulders hunch and while taking a step back, she falters on her heels. Was she seriously about to fall to her knees?

What the hell just happened?

But before I can process all of that body language, it's gone. She's once again an out of place, yet unfaltering sex kitten. She must see the confusion on my face. Quickly, she smooths her dress over hips nervously, and mutters how actually, she's quite happy to have caught me. Then:

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Ana. I'll see myself out. Thank you for your time, and please mention me to Mr. Grey." She turns expertly on her six inch high heel, and yanks open my front door. I smile before closing-and locking- it behind her. I hear my cell phone chime, and run to catch it.

**From: Christian Grey**

**To: Anastasia Grey**

**Subject: Missing my two favorite ladies**

**Hello Mrs. and Miss Grey. Please put on something pretty; we're going out to dinner.**

**Love you both. X**

**Christian Grey**

**Hungry CEO, Grey Enterprises Inc.**

Oh, this was going to be interesting.

**Wowza. I agree with Ana- that is gonna be some dinner! So, you've been formally invited to dinner with Ana and Christian ;) Come back tomorrow!**

**Love, AWC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Sorry I haven't update in a few days- I got sick :( by I have a pretty long chapter today! All questions about Leila and security will be answered here, and of course, ask any that aren't. See you soon!**

**XO, AWC**

I have the absurd craving to don some almost ridiculous lingerie.

Jeez, I must miss my husband more than I realize!

So after rifling through my doors, I choose a royal blue pair of barely there lace panties- complete with a matching bra. I decide on a silky purple wrap dress for my date with Christian tonight. It's a little shorter than I'd normally choose, but my visit with Leila has me on edge...and feeling greedy for attention. The fact that she slipped past security worries me. I haven't worried about her in a year or two, at least. As far as I had known, she was tucked away in an obscure art school, 'recovering' under the watch of her family. There is something off here, though. I can't put my finger on it, but her demeanor and personality was very...out there. A complete one eighty from the beaten down, broken submissive I had seen.

Trying to put it out of my head for now, I conserve my emotions and use my energy to get pretty for my Fifty. I plug in my curling iron and rake a brush through my hair, combing out the crazy waves and snarls until the bristles are full of hair. I wipe off my red lipstick with a tissue, scrubbing at my lips, trying to forget a different pouty red mouth swimming in my vision. I apply a smoky silver eye shadow to my eyes, opting for a bolder, smokier look. More than I usually wear, but definitely what I need! My face is abnormally pale, but after much brushing and blending, I look happily flushed. Once my iron is hot to the touch, I quickly work my hair into long, loose curls that bounce when I walk and flow smoothly over my shoulders. A final slick of nude lipgloss, and I'm done. Every bit as glamorous as a bottle blonde I talked to earlier...aren't I?

"Hey baby!" Christian is grinning from ear to ear as he pulls me into his arms for a hello kiss. This time he is the one getting a little carried away- running his hands over my sides, through my hair, tasting my lips and pulling me close to him, so our bodies are pressed together as much as possible. I reciprocate, eager to explore him, enjoy that tousled copper hair, but Taylor has other plans.

He clears his throat respectfully, and murmurs, "Reservations, sir." We come up for air, as Christian presses his forehead against mine.

'Later.' he mouths, winking, and his implication has me more than willing to skip dinner! But unfortunately, into the car we climb. He holds my hand tightly, pulling me close to him, so he can wrap an arm around me. "You look lovely, Mrs. Grey. I like this dress on you." His eyes flash suggestively. I really want to let him and his sexcapades distract me, I do- I know fully well the moment I mention Leila he will shut down on me, his good mood forgotten. Christian must notice the tense undercurrent to my mood, because the black window between us and Taylor goes up after a few minutes of quiet. We make out like teenagers, pulling at each other, a tangle of lips and teeth and tongue. We finally make it to the restaurant in one piece. "You're lucky you made it here still in that dress, baby." He purrs, pressing one last kiss to my temple. I laugh, before replying, "And you, in that tie." My favorite tie, actually. Christian rolls his eyes, and runs his fingers through my hair gently, fixing it I reciprocate before touching up my makeup. Then out we go, and she is still on my mind, weighing me, pressing me.

The restaurant is a ridiculously nice steak house. He orders an exotic sounding wine, and "A cider for the lady." My drink is crisp, cool, bubbly, and delicious- hints of apple, grape, and pineapple keep my need for a glass of wine sated. Pheobe can't exactly partake yet, I think with a chuckle.

"What's funny, baby?" Christian takes a sip of his wine, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

I try to focus on my words, and not his warm hands fiddling with my rings. "I was thinking how badly I wanted a good glass of wine to relax, but how Miss Pheobe can't partake yet."

Christian's eye brows raise incredulously. "You, a drinker, Mrs. Grey? What happened today?"

Shit.

"Nothing." My voice sounds incredibly fake, even to me, and is two octaves too high.

Fuck.

"Anastasia." Christian's voice sounds calm, and I find my anxieties ease a little.

"I love it when you say my full name." I half stand, and peck him on the lips. He smirks at me gently.

"Ana, what did you do?" My heart speeds. No, I don't want to kiss playful, sweet Christian goodbye.

"I can't tell you." My voice breaks softly on the last word, and suddenly, I have no choice. Playful Christian is already gone. That sad tone has hardened those liquid grey eyes, and his shoulders are squared, jaw tensed.

"Did someone hurt you? I know I shouldn't have lessened security...damn it, Ana!" Whoa, hold on!

"Christian, calm down! I'm not hurt, I promise. We...had a visitor."

Christian blinks twice, rapidly. "What happened? Who was it?"

I tell him the whole story. Leila, in all of her gaudy attire, showing up on our front door step, and asking for a job. Begging a little, really. I'm apprehensively watching his moods change. He looks like one of those damn mood necklaces- the ones that supposedly change color to signify your emotions. I watch him swing-confused, incredulous, furious, thoughtful, and finally, calculating.

I do not like that look on his face. That's the expression he dons just before making an insane, but brilliant business move. "Where are going with this, Mr. Grey? I thought you'd be angry."

His eyes darken, and his mouth pulls taunt. "Quite frankly, I'm furious. But only at myself- security on Teddy, you, and myself has obviously stretched our team too tightly. And I need to install a landline phone so you can get to it at all times, from anywhere in the house. If something had happened to you..." His voice breaks, and he slams a clenched fist onto our table. I jump, startled and worried, but he visibly calms himself. "But you're here, not hurt. And I need to consider the positive. All things considered, this could be good for us, baby. Think- no more having to worry about her. She could do the simplest mundane tasks, and I'd pay her well to give her an incentive to stay. A new security detail could watch her, and we'd never have to question where she was for the foreseeable future."

What the fuck? "Christian, what the hell did you just suggest?" He raises his hands, looking surprised, but I am on a roll. "That you let an ex submissive- one you had sexual relations with, several times, and who threatened me with a gun- work getting you coffee and file your papers? That's crazy! She obviously is still in love with you."

"Letting the happen would make sure she never threatened you again. And I love my wife. My life is with you now. And our little man. Besides, she's a complient blonde. I have a thing for feisty brunettes." I gulp, knowing where this is going. "Pregnant feisty brunettes are actually quite high up on my list right now."

"Christian, stop it." My voice sounds tired. "Will you or won't you?" Tears fill my eyes. I am so damn frusterated; how do I explain the dread filling my stomach, and the feeling of ice water in my veins at the thought of her so close to him.

"Baby, I can see this makes you uncomfortable. And it makes me upset too. But with extra security details on all of us, Leila included, we would be safer. I would require her to see Flynn once a week to keep her job. Think about it."

"Answer the fucking question, Grey." His mouth pops open in surprise. I rarely am this angry. He takes my hand, and kisses the palm gently. Never taking his eyes off mine, he kisses each of my knuckles before pecking a kiss on my wedding ring.

Voice dripping calm, serious dedication, he vows, "I will do anything and everything to keep you and our children safe. If this includes a gamble, I will take it. I swear to you Anastasia, I will have people and cameras watching her at all times."

I don't want this, but he has caught hold of this idea. He won't let go if it has anything to do with more fucking control.

"Fine." My voice sounds clipped and broken- so much emotion in one word.

Taking tight hold of my hand, he throws two hundred dollar bills on the table. He pulls me outside, and presses me up against a wall. The stone is warm, and the air smells of a flower I can't place. He puts both of his hands on either side of my face, and kissing my nose, claims my attention. He weaves a hand through my hair, and stares into my eyes, soft grey to baby blue.

"Ana, I love you so much. I will stop at nothing to protect you." His lips move to my ear, and whispers at a much lower volume, "Now let's go home, and fix that smart mouth. You cussed at me." His teeth graze my earlobe, and I shiver with anticipation. "Or maybe this is better punishment."

Teasingly, he takes his hands out of my hair and off my body, stepping away quickly. I inhale his scent that wafts towards me; of soap, body wash, and Christian.

Rolling my eyes, I walk over to him, heels clicking on the pavement, where Taylor is holding open the car door. Christian beckons from the inside of the backseat, and as I climb in, sliding onto his lap, I notice two things... There is a considerable bulge under my behind, and the black window between us and the drivers cabin is already closed.

I am in for one hell of a ride home.

**Wow! Who expected that reaction? It's a gamble, and a good idea in theory, but how will it work in the real world? **

**As always, I take suggestions! Review, review, review!**

**XO, AWC**


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